


Blumenlied

by BluntHammer (Postludium)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: A really smol mention of Tiedoll, AU, Flower!Allen, Little Boy!Kanda, M/M, Mild yullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Postludium/pseuds/BluntHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spluttering, he looked up to the smirking face of the boy who'd just dumped water on him. If he wasn't so offended, he might've taken the time to thank the boy, but he opted to just glare back as the boy gave him a shit-eating grin. Mild yullen AU Flower!Allen and Little Boy!Kanda</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blumenlied

Blumenlied

….

So…thirsty

Allen looked upon the children in the park enviously, sweating, laughing and playing in the sun. Those blasted humans! They wasted water everyday and he had to look at them doing so, not being able to do anything about it. It was the worst kind of torture for him.

"What are you?" came a voice from behind him.

Crap!

It was a human! Allen went into panic mode. All flowers knew that they weren't to be seen by humans, especially by human children. They picked flowers and put them in glass vases, thinking that that was an adequate way of keeping the flower alive.

Well, it was too late now, he couldn't just head back into his flower to hide – he'd already been seen. Slowly, he turned around and said, "I'm a flower."

Allen was surprised to see that the child he met had blue eyes. It wasn't everyday that one had the chance to see the shade of blue that the child had. It wasn't the watery, pale blue that most people had and it wasn't the electric blue he'd seen on others, no, this was a dark, rich, royal blue that was unusual, but oddly fitting on the boy's pale, Asian face.

The boy's face scrunched up.

"Are you sure? Your petals are awfully dry," he said, forehead wrinkling. Suddenly, he jumped up and took off.

Humans are so weird, Allen sighed.

It wasn't long before the boy was back again, this time with a colourful water bottle, all blue and red, decked out with pictures of…swords?

And then he couldn't breathe.

Spluttering, he looked up to the smirking face of the boy who'd just dumped water on him. If he wasn't so offended, he might've taken the time to thank the boy, but he opted to just glare back as the boy gave him a shit-eating grin.

…

Kanda stared at the stormy sky, a bored expression on his face. To put it simply, the sky looked sick. Thick, ash-grey clouds covered the sky like a thick layer of smog, smothering everything underneath it in the humid, late-summer air.

Kanda's eyes went back to his book, deciding that it was much more interesting than sick clouds. He listened contentedly as the sky rumbled and flashed. Before long, he started to hear the telltale pitter-patter of the raindrops hitting his window.

He sighed, for some reason he just couldn't focus on his book. The sky rumbled again, this time accompanied by a flash of lightning.

Wait…lightning? It rained harder, sheets of water streaming down the windowpanes, and the niggling feeling in the back of his mind grew stronger.

Ooooooh no, Kanda thought with dread as realization set in.

The flower!

Kanda ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, book tossed aside and forgotten.

"Tiedoll!" he shouted. A grey ball of hair poked itself out of a room.

"What is it, Yuu-kun?" he asked in kindly voice.

"Where's the gardening stuff?" Kanda's voice was urgent.

"In the garage," Tiedoll replied, only having a moment to wonder as Kanda bolted to the room that connected the house to the garage.

…

Allen desperately clung to his flower. He hated late-summer storms, they were mean little things, jeering at him and pulling at his petals while blowing past him in a flurry of rainwater and mud. He'd drown if this continued; he wasn't naïve enough to think that he'd survive this storm. It pulled and pulled at his stalk, tearing the ground around his roots.

"Mr. Flower!" Allen was startled out of his contemplation of his imminent death; head turning fast enough to give him whiplash. There he was, the boy from the other day, my savior, he thought.

The boy was barreling down the sodden, gravel road, clutching a pot and shovel in one hand and a bag of potting soil in the other, the huge bag rivaling the size of his body. He came dripping, water running down his shoulder-length hair and blurring the vision of his eyes. Allen said nothing as the boy came to a stop in front of him, squatting and huffing and puffing. With adroit hands, he slowly dug around Allen, taking care not to damage any roots and placed him in the pot, covering him until the rim of the pot with the soil.

The wind was howling now, clawing at their clothes. Abandoning the soil and shovel, the boy pressed Allen's new pot against his chest and ran back to – what Allen was assuming – his house. Quickly hiding in his flower, Allen watched through a slit as Kanda took off his shoes and was clucked at and fussed over by a warm, old man.


	2. Halcyon Days

Allen sang every day.

It wasn't bad per se, and it was actually quite good. The problem lay with the _songs_ that Allen sang.

Usually he picked something that fit his mood. On sunny days, he sang of the sun and the life she gave. On cloudy days, he sang of the clouds and rain. In the morning he sang of the birds chirping and the wind in he leaves. In the evening he sang of the water lapping at the shore and of the thousands of stars that would twinkle in the sky.

It wasn't in Kanda's nature to question any of this. He'd just listen and allow Allen do his own thing, after all, what did he know about flowers? But when Allen sang the song for the fifth day in a row, Kanda finally felt the spark known as curiosity tug at him.

"Why do you always sing that?" Allen smiled at him.

"Can't you hear it Yuu? In this song you can hear everything, the stars, the wind, the sun, the moon, the waves and the birds. It's the song of the world."

Kanda could only nod confusedly, not really understanding but not wanting to ask what it meant.

He turned around.

Uh-oh, he forgot what he was about to do.

…

Death was a strange concept. A great deal of ambiguity surrounded it, it was the unknown, it was the darkness, it was the road from which no traveler returned. At a young age, Yuu had come to accept it, not staring at it directly in the face so he didn't have to deal with it, turning a blind eye to it whenever it decided to appear in his life.

This was why he was utterly confused when he thought of Allen dying. It felt like his lungs were being squeezed and grabbed at, with his stomach doing queasy flips. Tears would spring unbidden to his eyes and his head would spin. He didn't know _why_ it would happen, it just did.

It didn't help that he could even see Allen dying. The rich, red of his petals slowly faded out, not turning brown like most decomposing flowers, but a pure, pure white. It was beautiful in a sickening way, the colour that usually symbolized innocence turned into one of death.

Kanda would stare at Allen with an intensity and depth that usually wouldn't be associated with someone of his age. If Allen noticed anything, he didn't question it. Kanda liked that about Allen, he understood the respect of privacy and wouldn't dig too deep unless given permission, they were similar in that way.

And then suddenly, just like that day that seemed so long ago when he asked Allen about the song, he asked him, "are you dying?"

Allen was startled by the suddenness of the question. It came out of the blue, something as serious as that not correlating with the mood of the late afternoon. The orange light that filtered through Kanda's glass window suggested something of lighter topic, not of… _death_.

Slowly blinking, Allen then realized that he honestly had no idea how to answer.

Forcing out a smile he said, "all things have to die one day, Yuu."

With a frown, Kanda turned away – just like the day when asked about the song – with his lips puckered out and brows furrowed.

…

They didn't mention that ever again, choosing to settle into a routine to provide a fake sense of normalcy. Kanda watered Allen every day at the same time, occasionally putting fertilizer on Allen at his discretion.

The days would be filled with the singing of Allen and the nights would be filled with hushed whispers of the stars. Only later would Kanda wonder why Tiedoll had never questioned him.

This was all an act though, carefully put together by two individuals who were adept at the art and more than happy to comply. Kanda would ignore the rapidly greying hair of Allen's and Allen would ignore the petals falling off of his flower. They both knew what was coming and didn't want to dwell on it. It was just easier to ignore the truth…right?

That was why, when Allen went, Kanda didn't cry. He didn't scream, he didn't wail, he only buried Allen – or what was left of his flower – in the backyard. He chose to mourn silently, brooding by himself, knowing that he couldn't blame anyone or anything. It frustrated him to no end, he wanted to hit something, strangle something, _just do something_ and not be useless.

He looked at the spot where Allen's flowerpot used to sit. It was right up near Kanda's window, giving Allen a clear view of the world outside. Kanda tried listening, trying to remember the song of the stars, the wind, the sun, the moon, the waves and the birds – _the song of the world_. He could almost hear Allen's soft, tinkling voice in the breeze, or maybe the bright, bubbly quality of it in the birds each morning.

He'd look at Allen's spot, still reserved and clear and clean for reasons that eluded Kanda, and then he'd look at the spot in the backyard where he buried Allen.

Kanda's eyes grew wide as saucers, seeing a flower bloom right there, a flower that looked just like Allen's. He tore down the stairs of is house, out into the sunlight and wind, chest feeling like a bubble about to burst.

But instead, he found only the flower, and no Allen.

His chest deflated and the energy just seemed to suck out of him. He walked back home, feeling emptier than ever.

…


	3. Epilogue

Kanda had never desired the attention of others or adults, not caring about what people thought of him, not even searching for approval like the pretentious kids his age. He simply just did not give a fuck.

 

The girls could giggle and fantasize about him and the guys could scorn and fear him, but he paid it no mind – he just did whatever was necessary and nothing more. Nothing, _absolutely nothing_ held any sort of value to him – or that’s what he told himself.

 

He turned a blind eye when he caught himself hunting for flowers that looked like Allen and he chose to ignore the fact that he still carried around the obscenely red and blue water bottle from when he was a kid. He told himself that he still needed to use the planter that he had let Allen live in and pretended that he tended the garden as a favor for Tiedoll.

 

Some days, he could even pretend that the days he’d spent with Allen were nothing more than a dream, some sort of wild fantasy that his bored, childish brain had thought up for him as he wasted away in the idleness of summer.

 

And then he’d look at the pot and the water bottle and the garden and the colorfully blooming garden and he’d think to himself:

 

_Fuck_

 

He snorted as he thought of what Allen’s face would look like if he heard Kanda curse.

 

_But who cares?_

 

Allen wasn’t there anymore.

 

_It didn’t matter_

 

Nothing mattered; that’s right, Kanda didn’t care about anything.

 

He pushed past a couple of girls, ignoring the giggling that followed him into the classroom. He brought out his materials; he was a good student even if he didn’t look like one. He tensed as he found the ridiculous red and blue cup in his hand, scratched here and there from the tumbles it suffered from past drops.

 

Kanda didn’t even know how it got there. After a quick mental debate, he decided to put it on his desk, upper right corner, neat and impeccable. More giggles came from the girls outside.

 

Kanda ignored it once again. He heard the _click_ of the door opening, providing a brief moment of noise before closing with another _click_.

 

Kanda still decided not to look; it was probably just another classmate.

 

_Kanda!_

 

Kanda ignored the voice although he gathered a faint sense of familiarity from it.

 

_Kanda_ , the voice said once again, this time followed with a harrumph.

 

_Kanda Yuu look_ up _for fuck's sake_ , the voice said, now somehow closer than before. Kanda whirled around snarling, only to see Allen, Allen whose entire existence seemed to glow and the very same Allen who was supposed to be _dead_.

 

Kanda reached out and found out that Allen was very much _real_ and for the first time in years, Kanda smiled.


End file.
